


Last Train Home

by arrowsong



Category: War Horse (2011)
Genre: F/M, Tom Hiddle, Western Front, lovers reunited, possible death, wwi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 14:35:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4141464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arrowsong/pseuds/arrowsong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>November 1918. War is over and troops are returning home from the front lines. Waiting at the train station is Hallie Montgomery. Four years ago the love of her life, and best friend went to war. Even though he has been long declared "Missing in Action" she hasn't lost hope. The question is, will he be on the last train home, or has her beloved captain been taken from her, to lay forever amongst the war dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Train Home

The sun was ready to set on yet another day, and the last train would arrive in a few minutes.  Every day Hallie Montgomery waited patiently at the train station. Watching involuntarily as loved ones were reunited after a long, and terrible war. Eventually she would turn away unable to watch anymore.  It hurt too much.  She couldn’t bear to see all the smiling faces stained with tears of relief and joy as husbands embraced their wives, and fathers kissed their children, sons hugging mothers and brothers reuniting; all of them thankful that they survived. It hurt too much to see all this relief and rejoice, when the fate of her loved one was still unknown.

“Please, just let him come home.  Let him be safe. Let him be alive,” she whispered feverishly to herself, desperately trying to keep the tears at bay.  This was her only prayer. The only prayer to pass over her lips these last four years; from the moment she had said her good-byes on this very platform. The moment she stood with bated breath, and watched him ride off into the darkness of an uncertain future, into the heart of no mans land, just praying to God he would return. There were times where it felt like only yesterday she walked with him to say her tearful goodbye begging him not to leave and there were others where it felt like a lifetime ago.  She remembered it perfectly.

 

* * *

 

_The midsummer sun sat high in the sky, and yet it was near blinding as Hallie stood on the platform forced to shield her eyes from the suns harsh glare. The train station buzzed with the hum of hundreds of young men excited for the upcoming war with Germany. Dozens of women had accompanied them to the train to see them off; they too were infected with nationalist pride as they smiled kissing their husbands, brothers, and sons good-bye._

_For so many, the news of war had been cause of great excitement and a surge of national pride.  Images of the dutiful Englishman off to fight the barbaric Germans and protect the helpless Belgians littered every street and magazine.  How could they not feel the torrents of the oncoming storm as it ripped their loved ones away?_

_For so long she had done well at hiding her true feelings about the war, but now, standing on that platform.  She could not hold them in much longer.  Not now that James was loading his bags on the train. In a minute he would come back to give her his final good byes and then he would ride off in to that setting sun._

_“Well that’s the last of it.  I should reach Devon by Monday for rec-”_

_“Don’t go! Please.” She begged.  It took less than a minute for the composure she worked so hard to maintain to fleck away like old dried paint.  She suddenly found herself unable to keep the words she had been thinking to herself._

_“What?” he asked stunned by her sudden outburst.  How could he not be, up until now she managed to keep her opinions of the war to herself.  But now, now that they were there standing on the platform waiting for him to leave, possibly forever, that composure crumbled away._

_“Don’t leave.”  She pleaded. Tears fell lightly down her cheek. “I don’t want you to go. Please, just stay – don’t leave me.”_

_“Oh Hallie,” he whispered as he pulled her in close to his chest. The wool of his uniform scratched her cheek as she cried silently into his chest.  Stroking her head he held her tightly pressed against his body. Reminding her of all the times he’d held her like this after a fight with her father. The familiarity of the touch combined with the bittersweet memories attached made her only cry harder._

_This was probably the last thing he needed right now.  He was the one going off to war, not her, so why was she the one who was so scared?  Why wasn’t he?_

_He tilted her head up so she could look into his ocean blue eyes with her own puffy red ones.  “I don’t want to leave you, but you can’t stay here.  So if enlisting in the war will earn me your fathers approval so be it.”_

_Hallie remembered the night her father yelled at James to stay away from his daughter.  He was drunk, he was always drunk, and bitter.  Bitter about the life he knew as a boy.  A life where James, the son of a physician, served as a constant reminder of the middle class, and how they encroached on the lifestyles of minor nobility such as himself.  He was furious to find out his daughter, a lady by title, was associating herself with the likes of a middle class man like James.  She remembered the rage behind her fathers eyes the night James stood up to him telling him that he was in love with his daughter, and intended to marry her. That was the first night she remembered feeling hope that maybe she could escape from under the controlling thumb of her father._

_“I love you Hallie Montgomery, and I will marry you.  Nothing is going to stop that, not the Germans, not the war, not even your father can keep us from marrying.  Okay?”_

_She could only nod.  “But what if-”_

_“All you have to do is believe Hallie.  Wait for me. After the war we’ll get a little cottage somewhere out in the country, far from everything.  I’ll open my own practice, and you’ll be a schoolteacher.  You can have that little garden you’ve always wanted, and we’ll be far away from him.  Life on your fathers estate will be nothing more than a bad memory.” He smiled brushing some of the hair from her eyes.  “I’ll be your shelter. I’ll be your fate.  I’ll be your forever.  Just wait for me, and I promise that when this war ends I will be on that last train home.”_

_Despite the comfort of his words he could still see the fear, the doubt and the uncertainty in her eyes.  “I promise you Hallie, but I need you to believe, believe in me, believe in us, that we are stronger than this war. Alright?”_

_She still held on to her fears and doubts, but there was something about the conviction in eyes and the enthusiasm in his voice that made her agree._ _“Alright,” She nodded wiping away some of the stray tears from her eyes. "But you promise. You promise me right now James Nicholls.  You promise to be on that train home.”  Her voice strong, and unwavering, but saturated with the desperation clawing at the back of her mind._

_Cupping her face with his smooth warm hands he caught a rogue tear as it ran down from the corner of her eye with his thumb.  The light and laughter was gone from his eyes, and his voice solemn as he repeated the words. “I promise.  I will find a way back to you Hallie. You are my forever.”_

_The train whistle signalled his need to board the train before it pulled away from the platform.  Looking at the train and back to her he sighed.  His handsome features darkened.  It was time._

_“I have to go now,” he whispered pulling her in close._

_She threw her arms around his neck one last time as she felt his warm breath on her neck, and his perfectly parted hair brushed her cheek. He pulled back from her embrace and placed one last gentle chaste kiss on her lips before kissing her forehead, a custom of his whenever he comforted her._

_Hands firmly clasped in each others she walked over to the train with him. As he stood on the first step he looked back at her._

_“Promise you won’t forget about me?”  He asked cheekily.  Any traces of anxiety already gone as he smiled down at her._

_“Not even if I tried,” she smiled in spite of herself.  She could always count on James to make her smile, even on her darkest of days.  He gave her small salute and a wink before getting onboard._

_Hallie stood back until she spotted James lean out the window._

_“I forgot to tell you something,” He said quickly as the train started to pull away from the station._

_“What?” She asked frantically starting to run after the slow moving train._

_“I love you!”  He shouted as the train began to outrun her._

_“I love you too,” She cried out after him._

_"Promise me you'll always believe," were the last words he called out to her before the train pulled too far away by the time she reached the edge of the platform. Watching the train continue down it's long track, James already out of sight_ _Hallie shielded her eyes from the sun, watching  until she alone remained at the station. “I promise,” she whispered to herself as fresh tears stung her eyes._ _“I promise James.  I promise.”_

 

* * *

 

From that day on she waited patiently for the end of the war, never giving up hope that Captain James Nicholls would return home.  Her father, the reason for James’ enlistment, died the following spring, leaving everything to her brother Richard. It did not take Richard long to squander away what little family money they had, and soon she was renting a small flat in town, working as a nurse.  None of that mattered now.  The war was won, at a terrible cost, but at last it was over.  Everyone could breathe easy again.

Today had to be the day; it was the last day.  The last of the troops were arriving home from the Western Front. It was her last day for hope. A hope that had had been her beacon in the dark days of war. With every new atrocity that made the headlines it was the hope of his promise that kept her strong.

As news of the war, and of the frontlines, trickled back home to England she felt the threads in the tapestry of their future together come loose. When his letters stopped arriving from the front, the ends of the thread that remained began to fray. When his father received the missing in action notice rows and rows of a life carefully stitched began to unravel. The years of war may have reduced her hopes to nothing more than a thin frail piece of string, but it survived nonetheless.  It was a hope that would not be easily destroyed.  _He promised._

Since the papers announced the end of the war, and the peace with Germany signed, she needed her hope and strength more than ever.  Every morning she rose before the sun touched the sky and washed her face. Then she would dress in one of her nice blouses and skirt, style her dark brown curls and leave for the train station. There she would wait.  She would be on the platform when the first train arrived, and not leave until the last train pulled away for the night. This had been her routine for nearly two weeks.

Scanning the face of every man disembarking from the train, checking to see if her James had come home.  Every night she made the slow treacherous walk home with a heavy heart, and another thread splintered, and pulled apart.   She was not sure how much she could endure; her faith was beaten like a rock by the ocean day in and day out; she remained steadfast, but as each wave of bitter disappointment washed over her, a little bit of her resolve crumbled away into the ocean. 

Would she be another war widow? No.  You need to be married to be a widow.  She was not even engaged; she was only a silly girl in love. In love with her best friend from childhood, the only boy in the world who had ever mattered to her.  She could never recall the exact moment she realized she was in love with the villiage physician’s golden haired son.  She never woke up one morning with the startling realization she loved him; she had always loved him.

Now for the first time in her life she worried that she might have to grow old without him by her side.   How could she grow old and grey without James? These past four years were hard enough, let alone a lifetime.

She was adrift in a sea of tired, war weary, happy, handsome faces but not one of them belonged to James.  She wandered through the crowd desperate for a better look. He had to be there. She looked around the crowded platform as she was bumped and tossed around like a ship on the ocean.  The crowd thinned as soldiers either left with their loved ones or to the nearest pub in attempts to avoid sleeping alone tonight.  She felt the pitying stares of women whose husbands had already returned safely burn into her and the sympathetic gazes of the women who were also still waiting.

She saw their faces.  Faces painted with happiness and excitement, a mask for the fear that gripped their souls.  The fear that once the train pulled away they would still be standing on the platform, alone. She felt the same icy hand of fear reach up from the pit of her stomach and wrap its frozen fingers around her heart.  Standing a little bit straighter she adopted a look of serenity,a careful mask of her own, and moved to the side where she was out of sight from these women. She would not absorb their anxiety and feed her own.   _He promised._

White clouds of steam rose and a whistle screeched before the train pulled away for the next stop.  Stunned, Hallie looked around; she must have missed him somehow. Perhaps he'd been so tired and forgotten to get off? Girls pulled on their mother’s skirts wondering where Papa was, as their mothers bit back the bitter taste of reality, dreading what they would now have to tell their children, clouded their features. Young women collapsed into fits of tears in to the arms of their friends, sisters, or mothers, wailing uncontrollably.

In a dizzying circle she spun taking in the sight of a platform with dozens of women, and no soldiers.  Not one. Rapid breathing as her heart tried to catch up to what her eyes observed. She wanted to go and sit on the bench near by only she couldn't move.  She couldn't think, she couldn't even breathe as the shock of realization clung to her heart. She was paralyzed. 

He didn't come home. He was never coming home. Her best friend, her lover, her everything was gone.

 

* * *

 

Paralyzed. She could not breath, she could not speak, she did not even have the ability to collapse on the ground.  She stood rod straight staring out into the distance watching the train driving off into the distance.  The tears came down shortly after the train was out of sight, making lines on her face as she wept publicly, bitterly, quietly.  Everything she never had, that she had clung to for the last four years, was violently pulled away from her the second the train pulled away from the platform.  

Even after every other woman and family left the platform she remained, unable to move.  She half expected to spend the rest of her days on this platform as a frozen statue. How could such senseless loss and death be considered a victory?  Nobody wins when Kings go to war. 

The sky grew darker, but the last glimpses of light fought for their place in the sky, only Hallie did not notice anymore.  The only bit of light she had in this world was gone the second James boarded the train and rode out of her life, and into the horrors of war.

Working in the hospitals she treated soldiers sent home from the front. She heard their gruesome tales of No Man’s Land and all the horrors that came with it.  She heard their screams in the night, calling out for someone to save them.  Sometimes it was for a lover, or a friend, most of the time though it was for their mothers.  Every time new soldiers arrived at the hospital she scanned their faces, just to see if one of their dirty and bloodied faces belonged to her James.  Her efforts were always in vain.  Now she knew why.

She did not know how long she stood out on the platform, minutes, hours maybe; she did not know and more importantly she did not care.  No matter how long it had been, after some time she regained some mobility.  The tears still refused to cease, but now she was at least able to move, to find some kind of support.  She knew that if she sat she would never gain the strength to stand again.   She would sit here day in and day out just watching the trains until she slowly slipped into madness.  But she knew he would not want that for her. He would want to her to carry on with her life; now she would have to live for both of them.

She thought of trying to make her way home alone in the dark, with no one to hold her but herself.  Just like she had every night before, only this time it was different, tonight there would be no hope for tomorrow, tonight was forever; forever being alone in the dark, with no one to hold her, to love her, but herself.  She was not strong enough to cope with that grief, not quite yet.  First she would focus on unfreezing her limbs.  At some point in the evening her arms locked themselves onto each other, and she feared what may happen if she tried to unlock them, right now they were the only things keeping her together. 

She cursed her father, and all those years of governesses fussing over her, and molding her into being a 'perfect little lady' showing her what it meant to be proper.  She wished just for a second, to throw all propriety out the window and to just let go. To let go of everything and cry, to sob openly and wail like the other women had, and yet she could not. Not yet at least. Unable to stay but unwilling to leave she moved and sought out the comfort of a stone pillar. If it could support the iron beams that created the roof, then why couldn't it support her too?

The cool touch of the stone chilled her skin, and she shut her eyes as fresh tears came.  She did her best to muffle the tiny sobs with her hand.  She thought of him and his golden hair, her golden haired lover. He was gone. The grief was near suffocating, choking her with every breath she tried to take.

* * *

 

A light tap on her shoulder reminded her though that she was not alone in her grief, that she was still very much out in public.  For that she would need to return home. Quickly she rubbed away the dried salty lines on her face.  "Yes?" She asked as she did her best to repair the damage her tears had caused before facing the person who belonged to those fingers.

"Excuse me Miss," a familiar deep voice spoke softly behind her. "That was the last train."

 

It couldn't be. 

 

Again, she was paralyzed.  Only this time it wasn't the devastation of grief that caused her to remain frozen where she stood, it was something more. It was relief.  Relief created by mixing part excitement for she recognized that voice, and part fear that she was now plagued by some ghost of her own making. The excitement of possibility raced through her, she could feel it coursing in her veins warming everything that had frozen.

"I know," she whispered softly as she turned slowly to face him. She kept her head down as she spoke though, afraid that if he were a ghost, she might shatter the sweet illusion by gazing at him too quickly.

Boots. Those were the first thing she noticed.  Military boots. Lifting her heard slowly she took everything in.  He wore a British cavalry uniform over top of thin but still muscular physique accompanied by strong arms; arms that held her when she was afraid she could not hold herself.  She slowly kept working her head up towards his face.  He was clean-shaven, and had a handsome chin, strong – just as she remembered it.  Next were his lips. The lips that had kissed her a hundred times and brought her comfort in times of trial and assurance in times joy.  She skipped over the nose, and at last focused on his eyes, his deep, ocean blue eyes. 

Those eyes, the ones that when they looked at her revered her with such love and devotion, she knew them immediately.  This was no ghost. 

"James?" She whispered with a hush, stunned and slightly in disbelief that this was real.  How was it that she lost him and found him again all in the span of an hour?

He returned her gaze with his, as tired they may be, his eyes shone even brighter the moment they met hers.  Could he see the swell of her tender red eyes from when she had been sobbing, perhaps he saw the tear stains on her skirt.  If he did, he did not have the chance to comment as she lunged forward throwing her arms around him and began sobbing again, only this time the tears came faster than before, and she laughed. She was so elated that she thought she might float away.  She didn't even care that the wool from his uniform scratched at her face as she held him in her arms.

His hand instantly and instinctively cradled her neck, knotting his fingers in her mass of curls as the other held her tightly against his chest. There he held her tightly, protectively in his arms.  "I told you to just believe," he whispered softly in her hair, it felt like ten lifetimes ago since he'd held her, "and you did Hallie.  I knew you would."

"James Nicholls," she said backing away from their embrace, jabbing a pointed finger at his chest before crossing her own across her chest, staring into his pale and tired face.  "You're late," she couldn't help a grin from breaking out on her face as she tried to scold him for making her wait. 

"I know," he whispered; cupping her face in his gloved hands, kissing away the tears that remained on her cold, wet cheeks.  "My light," he kissed her gently. "My shelter," kissed her lips again, lingering a little longer this time, " my fate, my forever - you waited for me," he murmured between kisses.   "I'm home. I missed the last train, but I'm home now."

**Author's Note:**

> Really old piece I wrote ages ago based on the song - Last Train Home by Ryan Star. Thought I'd finally bring it over here and see what people think.


End file.
